Assumptions
by catsncritters
Summary: SLASH, PercyNeville. What could've happened during the Yule Ball. (complete)
1. Assumptions

**Title**: Assumptions

**Author**: Catsncritters (Adrienne Wolter)

**Disclaimer**: Potter is JK Rowling's, not mine. If you don't know that by now, you're probably not going to want to read this. The plot is miiiiiine, although the characters are hers. No moolah is being made, as this is a work of fan fiction.

**Summary**: This is what could've happened during the Yule Ball is GoF. It's some lovely, angsty, slashy goodness. Percy's lonely. So is Neville. You can pretty much figure the rest, can't you? :)

**Rating**: PG. Just in case. (There's one kiss, folks.)

**Warnings**: SLASH. As in male/male romance. There's also a slight age difference. Percy/Neville stuff, y'know. Flames will be used to light Hagrid's woodstove. If you don't like SLASH, simple, don't read it.

Enjoy! (And, please, if you read it, don't be a bastard and just leave, review it. :) )

.~*~.

The bell rang.  
"Potter–a word, if you please."  
Neville gathered his things and left the classroom with the bulk of the Gryffindor students, sighing. The Yule Ball. How on _Earth_ was he going to be able to show his face at that?  
Hermione and Ron, not being able to wait for Harry as class would start in four minutes, muttered quietly to one another, wondering what McGonagall had asked Harry to stay for.  
Neville sighed to himself and quietly shuffled through his papers for his schedule.  
He'd left it in the Transfiguration classroom.  
Dangit, Neville looked back behind him. The classroom was half the school away now, and he decided just to get it later. He followed Ron and Hermione to Potions, head down, face red. 

The days passed. Neville, who had always been somebody who trailed after the others, noticed how many girls laughed and giggled when Harry or Dean or Seamus passed in the hallway; he didn't get that sort of attention. Truth be told, he didn't know himself if he wanted it.  
The final week of term came too quickly, and Neville felt himself getting more and more nervous. In the Gryffindors' free time between Potions and Herbology, looking braver than he felt, he worked up the nerve to ask Hermione to the Ball.  
"Um, Hermione," the girl looked up from her book as Neville noiselessly took a seat across the table from her. "Do you..." he went pink, and gulped. "Do you... havadatoteball?"  
She blinked, and then her mouth fell open a little but no words came out for a few seconds as she strung them into sentences that had plausible meaning.  
"I'm sorry Neville...." His face fell despite his attempts to appear indifferent. "I'm already going with someone.... Sorry," she repeated, genuine sorrow in her eyes.  
"Yeah... that's okay," he got up somewhat stiffly, avoiding her eyes. He wanted to say something else to appear less disappointed, but forgot what that was immediately after it flashed across his mind.

Neville lay in his four-poster, staring up at the velvet covering the top of the bed. It was too early to go to sleep, but too late to start his essay for History of Magic.  
_I have until January_, he told himself, sighing and rolling onto his stomach. He stared at the mismatched sheet and pillow for a few seconds, then plopped his face forward into the pillow, inhaling the musty scent. His eyes hurt, like they do before you cry. He knew the feeling, expected it, could never fight it. He felt empty. Hollow.  
The tears came. They came in waves, shaking his somewhat pudgy frame and soaking into the pillow and his robe collar. Tears rolled down his nose into the pillow, stung his eyes and made them blur up. He trembled and wished it would stop.  
_I hate staying at Hogwarts_, he thought to himself. He had already signed up to stay for Christmas break, as his Gran had assumed he would.  
Neville hated her assumptions, her overprotectiveness. He hated the way she always did things for him, like he was a helpless five-year-old stuck in bed from illness. He hated the way every time she let him try himself, he failed miserably. He was a hopeless case.  
The dormitory door creaked open, loudly. Then was shut softly. The person coming in apparently thought he was sleeping, and Neville stayed silent, listening. It was either Dean or Seamus; Harry and Ron never cared how much noise they made when they came to the dorms, usually at a very late or early (as often was the case) hour.  
The tears stopped. Neville stared at the spot of pale light the moon made through the velvet late into the night until he finally fell to a less troubled sleep hours later.

Coming out of Potions on the final day of term, Neville bumped into Ginny, who was there early for whatever reason.  
"Ginny," he whispered, feeling himself getting hot. "Do you already have a... date to the   
Yule Ball?"  
"Oh... no," she answered, not particularly interested.  
"Would you go with me?" Neville asked in a rush.  
"Er... sure," she answered, keeping the disappointment in her voice to a bare minimum. Her eyes followed Harry's back until he turned the corner out of the dungeons.  
"Ok... thanks," Neville inwardly slapped himself for his too-quick decision. He knew Ginny wasn't interested.

Christmas morning, Neville woke to the yell of one of the other boys. Rolling over groggily and peering through the moth hole in the curtains, he saw that it was Harry who had shouted. He shook his head to clear it. As Ron, Dean, and Seamus had scrambled out of bed at the sight of their Christmas gifts, Neville reluctantly followed their example and scanned the small stack of presents at the foot of his bed.  
Not having parents who sent him gifts, or many relatives who could remember when Christmas was, he opened the gifts he had received from Gran, his uncle, and a few other ancient relatives. Sighing, he tossed the dress robes Gran had sent him onto his bed, and sent the tin of cookies from his uncle after them. A few other varieties of candy, and a card. He sighed and tried to smile, but it was very forced. Dean and Seamus, who had unwrapped a very large variety of posters and books and candies and wizarding magazines, gave each other a nervous glance.

Neville spent the rest of the morning off classes losing spectacularly to Ron in chess, and avoiding Fred and George's airbourne exploding snap cards, which seemed to like starting small fires when they came in contact with things like curtains, sweaters, and Crookshanks' tail.  
Then there was lunch, with spectacular arrays of turkeys and puddings; Neville ate silently while Dean, Seamus, Harry, and Ron animatedly argued over Quidditch teams and other wizarding politics. At one point, in a light-hearted fight about Quidditch, Dean and Seamus had asked him about which team he thought would make it to the next world cup. As he stayed very silent, poking at his porkchops and gravy, they didn't ask him again.

Then he followed the rest of his house out into the snow, making deep tracks and throwing snow about maniacally. A Slytherin clomped him in the back of the head with a snow ball, and he moved closer to the lake, further from the castle and the students. Loneliness was good.  
Neville worked on a small snowman, propped against a bare tree by the water. Just when he had finished his snowman, a wind came and snow fell out of the tree all over him. He sighed and decided it was about time to head back to the castle.  
He stood slowly, grasping the tree trunk for support, and kicked what was left of the snowman down, glaring at it. The sudden wave of anger ceased just as suddenly, and he made his way to the dorms to change into dress robes.

Somewhat self-consciously, Neville met Ginny in the common room, who stiffly stood and look over his robes silently. They offered each other very false, insecure smiles, and made their way out of the common room.  
The Great Hall looked very different. The students were obviously expected to seat themselves at the small tables scattered around the edges of the large room, so Ginny and Neville made their way to one of the closer ones, Ginny looking apprehensive, and Neville looking like he'd much rather be somewhere else.  
Neville's eyes flitted around the Hall; McGonagall called the champions and their dates over to the head table, and his eyes scanned the faces there. Ludo Bagman stood out in violently purple robes dotted with small yellow stars. Dumbledore was smiling and talking to Karkaroff, who seemed like he'd rather not be there, and Madame Maxime was watching the champions draw nearer. And then, on her other side... Percy Weasley?  
His thoughts wee interrupted as Dumbledore looked down at his plate and said, "Porkchops." Ginny looked down at the gold plate in front of her, and the menu, and clearly said to it, "Baked potatoes." Neville raised an eyebrow and ordered baked potatoes as well, as the only nearby menu was on the seat next to Ginny, and he didn't want to ask her to hand it to him.  
He hardly noticed what he was eating, and talked very formally to Ginny. Soon they went into a somewhat comfortable silence, listening to the dull chatter of other students around the Hall. Dumbledore told them to stand, and Neville and Ginny nervously did so, eyeing the ground. The table flew away at the wave of his wand, crashing into the wall and folding itself, and Neville caught Ginny's eye and offered a reassuring smile. A group of witches marched to a slowly rising platform to the right, and started a slow tune. Neville saw Harry trip slightly as he stood to start the dancing with the other champions.  
Ginny grinned and took Neville's hand to dance too, and soon they were dancing, albeit pretty badly on his part. Hard as he tried to avoid it, he kept stepping on the redhead's feet.  
They stopped shortly before the end of the next song, and Ginny went to get drinks. Neville watched her bump into a Durmstrang boy, and sighed as she followed him off to another table.

~*~

Percy Weasley felt very uncomfortable. Quite a few people had noticed that he resided in Crouch's spot, and he felt like he was in a spotlight. When people got more absorbed in dancing, however, they stopped looking at him.  
He watched them sadly. A thought of Penelope floated across his mind. She had asked him to marry her, assuming that he wanted to live just as she did; to have amazing success in the ministry and then to have a large family. She reminded him perfectly of his parents. He couldn't do it though. He couldn't accept that, and lie about his feelings for her. He thought he had loved her, he really had. But... he couldn't. It didn't feel right. She had looked so hurt when he had nervously refused. She had narrowed her eyes sadly, put them to the floor, and had nodded. Said it was for the better. Percy hated himself for hurting her, but was glad he was no longer lying to her. He hadn't seen her since.  
He shook his head lightly, as if to clear it, and tried to ease himself into a conversation between Dumbledore and Trelawney, but gave up as soon as he started. Standing very suddenly, he pushed in his chair and started out the doors, running a shaking hand through his hair.  
The redhead passed the rosebushes silently. Some couples hid in them and behind them, making them shake unexpectedly, and more than once he jumped and sped up down the path. It was moderately clear of snow, although the cobblestone path was lined with about two feet of snow on either side.  
The bushes gave way to a dirt path that led out to the Beauxbatons carriage. He veered from the path a little to one of the few fountains that had popped up along with the Christmas decorations. Knocking a bit of snow of the side of it, he sat on the edge of it, feeling the dampness soaking through his robes. Percy leaned against a short stone arch on the fountain, and brought his knees to his chest, shivering. Cold never bothered him too much; it was a distraction, often a welcome one.

~*~

Neville was torn between joining another table or going outside. Sighing, he took a gulp of pumpkin juice that he had gotten a while ago, and left. He didn't have the faintest clue where he was going, but 'away' was enough.

Sliding, unnoticed, from the Great Hall, he started down the cobblestone pathway, his Hogwarts boots making quiet _clip_, _clop_ noises as he stepped. These soft pattering sounds were what kept him from going over memories of cold winter nights when he had been forgotten; they kept him close enough to some sort of reality.  
He continued walking, watching small, glittering fairies throw tiny snowballs at each other, or him. They flew around in large, glowing packs, zooming around obstacles like bushes or tree trunks. They caught Neville's short attention and kept it.  
As he had been listening to the sharp clacking of his boots on the slick stones, he noticed almost immediately when the cobbles changed to grit. He was brought back to Earth with a very unpleasant bump.

The path went towards the huge carriage of Madame Maxime, and he also noticed deep tracks turning left off the path. He paused here. Not wanting to meet anyone, but not wanting to be caught where he wasn't allowed, he decided to turn left.  
The footprints led him to a small fountain with a few arches spanning over top of them, and a jet of water shooting up between them; he thought he saw a flicker of movement behind one of them, but decided he had just imagined it.

~*~

Percy heard the soft trudging of somebody coming nearer; he jumped slightly and felt stinging cold on his cheeks. Bringing a hand up to touch them, he felt tears.  
_Ugh_... Percy hurriedly wiped these off on his robesleeves, and tried to calm his tousled hair. He saw someone stop in front of the fountain and look up at it, not having seen him.  
The Weasley stayed silent and wanted them to go away. Her nervously flattened his dishevelled bangs and bit his lip.

~*~

Neville jumped. He saw red hair above one of the stone archways, and saw a robesleeve flutter in the wind. Coming a bit closer out of curiosity, he stopped in his tracks when he saw who was seated there.

"P-Percy?"  
_Curse stuttering_, Neville noted self-consciously.  
Percy Weasley looked up at the voice, and saw the short boy. Straining his memory for a few seconds, he tried to remember his name. _L–Longbottom is his surname_. _Er_. _Charles_? _No_... _Norbert_? _Eh_... _Neville_? That rang a bell. _Neville Longbottom_.  
"Neville?"  
The boy nodded, and shivered slightly. Percy dropped his feet to the ground and shakily stood. "What are you doing out here?"  
The redhead inwardly cringed at the very stern way he had asked this. Neville seemed to wince too, and Percy frowned. "Sorry." he whispered, stepping a bit closer to the other boy so they wouldn't have to talk so loudly. "Why are you out here, though?"  
"I... don't know." Now that Percy was within the light given off from the lantern in the tree, Neville could see that his hair was mussed and his eyes were red and rubbed at. He recognized this immediately; Percy had been crying.  
"What's wrong? Do you... er... want to talk about it?" Neville said, sounding much braver than he felt. Percy's eyes flickered up to meet the brown-haired boy's and then back to the ground. "You've been crying."  
The older boy winced. _So he noticed anyway_, he mused to himself. He tried to find words for an explanation, but his brain felt numb, like there was a blanket of fog over it.  
"It's nothing, I'm... fine." The words sounded very bitter. Neville sighed and didn't pursue the subject any longer.  
"Don't you want to go in? It's warmer," Neville murmured. Percy shook his head.  
"It's... quieter... out here."  
"Please don't do this, Percy," Neville whispered, looking genuinely concerned for Percy. The older boy felt his insides go warmer, and closed his eyes for a moment, reveling in the warmth.  
"Why shouldn't I?"  
The moment after the words escaped his mouth, he regretted them. Neville shrank away from him, something he hadn't wanted to do. He was pushing the boy away from him, just like he did to everyone else. But this boy was persistent. He hadn't left after Percy's first cold statement.  
"Nobody should have to... feel like they need to keep a distance from others because they don't think they are deserving of love and care," Neville said in the same low undertone, slurring the end together, but Percy, a meter or less away, heard him quite clearly. He raised his eyes to meet the other's.  
_I should be taking my own advice_, thought Neville bitterly, and he mentally laughed. _I've probably done more bad than good now_.  
"How did you know that?" Percy muttered, and looked up at Neville. He didn't glance this time, but really looked; saw the mirroring loneliness, the same sorrow in the younger boy that he felt in himself. Does he feel the same way that I do?  
Despite himself, Neville's right foot took a short step backwards. _No_! _I don't want to go to the castle again_! "I...."  
"Do you feel that way? Like you just said?" Percy interrupted him by accident, nervously standing up. He pushed away the urge to cross his arms; it always made him look intimidating, and he didn't want to do that to this boy.  
Neville's face darkened and he said in a normal tone of voice, "I'll leave if you want me to." He took another step backwards, keeping his eyes determinedly on the ground. He felt as if he was having a staring contest with the snow.  
Before he knew what he was doing, Percy was in front of Neville, his hands on the other boy's shoulders. "No! I mean...." Neville shook noticably.  
_Damn you, Percy, you've scared him_.  
"It's... ok... I – er...."

Their eyes met, and Neville shivered, even though he felt neither cold nor scared. He felt... he didn't want to think about it. He had plunged headfirst into a pool of emotions he didn't understand. He wanted to kiss Percy. He wanted to comfort him. He wanted to run.  
His legs wouldn't move, not with Percy holding his shoulders firmly.  
_He looks so cute_, Percy told himself, then mentally slapped himself. _No_. _I'm not supposed to be_....  
He chose to ignore this voice in his head, and, to his horror, felt himself leaning forward and catching Neville's lips in a kiss. He felt Neville shake violently under him, felt his own stomach curling up. The other boy was frozen. He wasn't kissing back.  
_I made a bad assumption_, Percy realized, and just as suddenly as he had kissed the boy, he wrenched himself away, eyes wide in absolute horror. He had undoubtably scared the boy, and he took a few steps back, going very red. Neville's eyes were wide, and he also backed away. His boot slid on ice, and he fell backwards. His weight landed completely on his right hand, and he scrambled to stand back up.  
Percy's mouth had opened, and he had made to help him up, but Neville had scuttled awkwardly out of his reach, not wanting him to touch him. Once again standing, Neville backed away further and finally turned and ran back to the castle.

Percy felt dead.

.~*~.

Yup, that's it. You like? Shall I continue? (I have an idea for the continuation of it, if so. I might choose to get into action and continue sooner if ya'll want me to.)

Review, please. :)


	2. Chaos

**Title**: Assumptions

**Author**: Catsncritters (Adrienne Wolter)

**Disclaimer**: Potter is JK Rowling's, not mine. If you don't know that by now, you're probably not going to want to read this. The plot is miiiiiine, although the characters are hers. No moolah is being made, as this is a work of fan fiction.

**Summary**: This is what could've happened during the Yule Ball is GoF. It's some lovely, angsty, slashy goodness. Percy's lonely. So is Neville. You can pretty much figure the rest, can't you? :)

**Rating**: PG. Just in case. (There's one kiss, folks.)

**Warnings**: SLASH. As in male/male romance. There's also a slight age difference. Percy/Neville stuff, y'know. Flames will be used to light Hagrid's woodstove. If you don't like SLASH, simple, don't read it.

**Chapter**: This is the second chapter, called Chaos. Probably last. Might be a sequel, dunno yet. 

.~*~.

Neville had run.  
Breathing sharply, Neville stopped himself just inside the Entrance Hall doors and gasped for air.  
Why did I run? He asked himself, stopping to consider his actions for the first time. I thought... I thought that was what I wanted to happen?  
Neville couldn't answer that.  
Oh god... what did I just do?  
His eyes went a little wider, and he peeked out the doors. All he could see was the very nearest cobbles and the lamp on the distant tree. Percy wasn't in the flood of light from it.  
What if he... drowns himself? Neville shook his head. Percy wouldn't do that... right?  
He sighed. He'd already done the damage. Curse stupidity, curse being scared, curse me.... He then proceeded up to Gryffindor tower, where he went to bed early. And slept in late. 

Dean and Seamus supposed that it was because he'd seen Ginny following another boy. They didn't question him, just let him sleep.  
Neville thought it would be odd if he asked if Ron's older brother was still there, so when he removed himself from his hiding place shortly after lunch, he dissolved into a fit of tears.  
This time for a completely different reason.  
He sat there, sort of in his dress robes, which had gone crooked from his fitful sleep. He didn't hear Seamus coming in behind him.  
"...Neville?"  
The boy looked up, tearstains in his eyes. Seamus opened his mouth, but nothing came out, so he closed it again. He tried again. "Neville," the boy closed his eyes for a few seconds. "Is this... about Ginny?"  
Neville looked up again sharply. He had all but forgotten the girl.  
"N–no," he answered, stuttering like an idiot. He didn't particularly care anymore, however.  
"Then... what...? I – er – brought you lunch...." Seamus handed him a napkin with two slices of toast in it. The boy muttered a thanks and bit into one. Seamus didn't question him further, just left.

During dinner, not feeling hungry, Neville went down to the empty common room with his Herbology book, sighing. Reading about plants always made him feel better.  
But he couldn't concentrate. By the time the first students returned, he had completely given up, and the book was across the room, dangerously close to the fireplace, where he had thrown it.  
"Neville," Hermione sat next to him on the couch, looking concerned. "Are you okay?"  
He gave her a look that told her he obviously wasn't. "If this isn't about Ginny, why are you...?"  
"You wouldn't understand," he snapped, sounding more severe than normal, and Hermione jumped, bitten by that remark. There were very few things she didn't understand, and Neville was now one of them. She didn't say another word, and left when she saw Ron glaring at Neville because Hermione was sitting next to him.

When lessons started again, Neville got constantly yelled at by teachers for his slow, sad attitude. Dean and Seamus took it upon themselves to keep an eye on him, and Neville always pretended to be asleep to make them go away. He didn't like how they watched him so carefully.

In February, Neville noticed how Harry, Ron, and Hermione talked late into the night, looking for something, anything, that would help them. By the end of the month, the three were spending hours in the Library.  
Then it was just Harry. Ron and Hermione seemed to have disappeared.  
Then the second task was there, and Neville nervously seated himself far back in the Gryffindor crowd. Percy was there, judging for Crouch. Once, when all the champions were down in the lake, Percy looked up at the crowd behind him. Neville sunk so low in his seat that he thought he'd fall out of it, and Dean raised an eyebrow from next to him. Percy didn't look back at the crowd again.  
Harry came up last, bringing with him not one, but two people. Ron and some girl. Neville wondered who she was, but soon realized who from Fleur's wild yelling. Percy, now soaked because he had gone out into the lake to help Harry get Ron out, was smiling and talking to Dumbledore. Then the five judges went into a small group and discussed the scoring.

Then they made their decisions, and the crowd started dispersing, going to the castle, or throwing slushy snow at each other until being chided by McGonagall. Neville was the last to leave the deserted stands, trying to stay out of sight.  
And then, just as he turned to leave the stands, he stopped right in front of Percy.  
The redhead, in new robes that weren't soaked, opened his mouth to say something. Neville backed away again, scared despite himself.  
"Percy, I...."  
"I'm sorry," the boy interrupted, looking at the slush on the ground. "I wasn't feeling right. It was stupid of me to have – I mean, you're Ron's age, and...."  
Neville looked up at him, and as he was still babbling, Neville stopped him by hugging him. Percy stopped awkwardly, and stared down at the slightly shorter boy.  
"What are you trying to do to me?" Percy demanded, pushing him away. "Once, you run, and now you're...."  
Percy shook his head and turned to leave. "Wait!" cried Neville, and he came closer again.  
"What do you want?" Percy asked, his voice hinting at hysterics. Neville heard the tone of voice and backed down.  
"Never mind," he sighed. Percy left. Neville kicked the Quidditch stadium with his foot as hard as he could. Then he scrambled around, trying to keep his balance with an aching foot.

He struggled in his studies, not quite as bad as before, but more hollow than he had ever felt. He asked Harry when the next task was, as he couldn't remember, and then wrote himself a note on a slip of paper, which he promptly lost. That was fine, however; the date of the next task was probably his last chance to set something right, and Neville could remember it easily.  
March rolled around. Then April. Then May. Then June came, and Neville was more scattered by had a clearer mind than normal. He sometimes climbed onto the roof of Gryffindor tower, and just looked up at the stars or the moon. And sometimes he did this in rain just to feel cold.  
Then June 24th came, the day he'd been both dreading and waiting for. He couldn't explain it; he wanted to see Percy there, but would rather be doing something else. He liked Percy but was very, very scared of him and what he would think.  
The last task was a maze, which could've easily been seen from springtime onwards. Neville watched the students filing into the stands. He sat up near the front, directly behind the judges, trying to appear braver than he felt. Percy didn't look at him when he came up to his seat with the other judges.  
The champions started into the maze, and it was silent except for the whispering of people in the crowd. Occasionally Neville could see spells being cast above the high hedges, but most of the time they saw nothing. He watched the back of Percy's head, feeling somewhat out-of-place.  
Percy was talking quietly to Dumbledore and Bagman, while Maxime and Karkaroff just listened. Just once, while Percy was turned to his left, talking to Bagman, Neville thought he saw the boy's eyes glance his way. But Neville supposed it was just wishful thinking, and stared at his shoes for a bit.  
They saw a cloud of red sparks, and McGonagall, atop a hippogriff that Hagrid had let her borrow, rescued Krum from the maze. Neville thought he heard Hermione in frantics behind him. Karkaroff left the stands clutching his arm and didn't return.  
They brought Fleur out too. Now only Cedric and Harry were in the maze. Madame Maxime looked disappointed.

What seemed like hours passed. Dumbledore allowed them to walk around, as long as they stayed outside and away from the maze. Percy and Neville looked at one another for a second, and Neville walked down the row of seats to ease himself into a conversation between a Hufflepuff and three Gryffindors. He nervously listened, and then sighed and went back to his seat, feeling awkward. Percy was still talking to Dumbledore. When their conversation ended, Dumbledore urged him to talk to some students.  
Percy nodded and stood, looking over Neville's head at the crowd. He was looking for his mum and Bill, but couldn't seem to find them.  
Neville sighed and kept his eyes averted, and finally moved away to a different, empty place at the top of the stands. He couldn't see anyone walking past on the rows underneath him, but he was alone to think what he wanted to think.  
He leaned on the wood and looked out. He was very high up, and felt dizzy if looked down, so he looked out at the forest. He was so absorbed in this that he didn't hear Percy coming up behind him.

"Oh... hi, Neville," Percy said, and the other boy jumped, banged his head on the wood, and, embarrassed, turned.  
"Hello Percy," he said, leaning back against the wood, trying to appear not as nervous as he felt. He wasn't doing too well, as Percy's eyes landed on his shaking hands.  
"Um... how are you?" Percy asked very formally, and he crossed his arms.  
Gods, Percy, what are you trying to accomplish? Percy asked himself. Wanting to talk to him but pushing him away?  
"Okay," Neville answered, the corner of his mouth twitching. His eyes were still glued to the floor.  
Percy inwardly urged himself to say something. "Looks like Hogwarts is guaranteed victory in the Triwizard Tournament, now," he said, racking his brains for more to babble on about so there wasn't such large gaps of silence.  
"Mmhmm." Neville was still very nervously eyeing anything but the boy in front of him.  
Think, Percy, think!  
"Er... Neville... I've been thinking...." He stopped. How in the world was he going to phrase this?  
The younger boy looked up at him for the first time since he'd came up on the stands. Neville's eyes were slightly red, and he was biting his lip very forcefully.  
There was silence. "Yes...?" Neville wanted Percy to keep talking, then he himself wouldn't have to come up with something to say.  
"I don't know." Percy ran his hand through his hair, sighing, trying to think of some way to say this. Neville's eyes followed his hand. "I don't know what I'm supposed to say... I mean, I'm scared as you are, and I don't know what to do because I don't know what you want me to do...."  
Neville's mouth opened and he stood straighter. He watched Percy silently, closing his mouth since he couldn't think of any way to respond to that. "What do you want me to do?" the redhead asked him, worry in his eyes.  
"I... don't know...."  
Please, Percy thought. Please, please don't say you want me to stay away....  
"I can go if you want me to," Percy said, taking a step backwards. He was unconsciously saying the exact thing Neville had said one day less than six months ago.  
"No, please don't," Neville whispered, reaching a hand out to Percy. "I don't know what I want to do either, but please, please don't leave again."  
Neville hugged Percy, feeling extremely lost, but not quite alone. Percy was with him. And maybe he didn't mind that Neville loved him.  
I love him? Neville realized for the first time. He nervously shivered inwardly, and Percy held onto him so he wouldn't fall. Then the boy realized something else. Percy wasn't pushing him away.  
The brown-haired fourth year looked up into Percy's face. Percy was about four inches taller than he was, but if he stood on tip-toes....  
Percy and Neville knew what was happening, and they both let it happen. Percy sank onto a bench, and Neville sat in his lap, and they kissed.  
Percy felt hands keeping them close, felt them in his hair, trying to get him closer. Neville felt Percy's light touch keeping him there, not shoving him away, but making him feel less alone. Their lips worked together, although without very much experience on either boy's part.  
They stayed like that for about a minute, and then they stopped for air. Both were very red. Neville, feeling heat going to his ears, looked up at Percy, who gave him a weak smile. But it wasn't a fake smile like the ones Ginny gave him, no, it was a real smile, worth a million other ones. In return, Neville smiled back and leaned against Percy again. He felt like he'd never be lost again, and hoped that that wasn't too far from the truth.

And then it happened. Percy and Neville, having sat together in silence for a few minutes, heard screaming, and both jumped up and looked over the edge of the stands to see what it was.  
Neville could just barely see Harry and Cedric before they were surrounded by students and teachers. Cedric wasn't moving, and Harry was clutching him tightly, not willing to let go, although the portkey he had practically thrown away from him.  
Percy's mouth opened, and he looked back at Neville. "I've got to go help them," he whispered. "I'll be back, Neville."  
Neville nodded and followed him out onto the field, the pit of his stomach feeling like someone had flipped it over.  
Oh god, Percy told himself. Cedric's dead.  
"Someone get help!" "Diggory's dead!!" "Get Madame Pomfrey!"  
Moody broke the crowd, helping Harry up and taking him back towards the castle. Dumbledore's white eyebrows lowered and he muttered something to McGonagall, who looked very surprised. They turned to Snape, who was clutching his arm and cringing. As soon as the words had come out of Dumbledore's mouth, Snape's eyes widened and he ran ahead of them towards the castle. Percy turned and was facing Neville again, and he shuddered.  
"Did you hear what he said?!" someone was shrieking. "You-Know-Who's back!!"  
Percy gaped for a few seconds, and he and Neville exchanged equal looks of horror, having heard the same thing at the same time, Percy put and hand on the other's back and led him out of the chaos, to a clear patch of ground. They could still hear hysterical girls screaming things back and forth.  
"Diggory's dead!" "He's back!" "Harry killed Cedric!"  
Percy saw Ron and Hermione running back to the castle, terrified. The Ravenclaw Seeker, Chang, she was sobbing openly.  
Neville and Percy shivered, and the older boy put a comforting hand over Neville's hand. He squeezed it twice reassuringly, and Neville gave a small smile.

Percy could remember the terrible times when Voldemort was in control of everything and everyone.  
He knew that it was going to happen again.

.~*~.

Review, please. :)


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